


An Old Friend

by doubleoaidan



Category: Call of Duty (Video Games)
Genre: Drama & Romance, Drinking & Talking, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 12:26:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17425868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doubleoaidan/pseuds/doubleoaidan
Summary: It's been a while since you've seen your old friend Erin "Battery" Baker. But you secretly think of her as more than that, and it's obvious she does too.





	An Old Friend

It was a warm late afternoon becoming early evening in Charlottesville, Virginia when you finally showed up at the Blue Pig Bar and Grill.

An old friend had called after messaging you on Facebook. Erin Baker. You remembered her. How could you forget her? She was tall and loud and brash, a tomboy who dyed her short blond hair bright colors just for the hell of it. You’d grown up with her, played hopscotch and toy soldiers and videogames with her. Funny enough, she’d gone into the army after high school. Even gotten cybernetic upgrades. Apparently her squadmates called her “Battery” now. It wasn’t that you didn't like her or hadn’t missed her. That would be a total lie. It was just that… people changed after they went into the military, and you were worried she wouldn’t be the same person you’d gotten to know in Mrs. Hettinger’s second grade class.

Of course, part of you knew this was a ridiculous worry. People changed all the time. Even you did. And it wasn’t as if she’d forgotten you or anything, otherwise she wouldn’t have messaged you in the first place.

But the other part of you did worry- for two reasons. One because you hoped she wouldn’t have lost her sense of fun, and two because, if you were truly honest with yourself, you had a bit of a crush on her.

Yes, you did, that much was true. And who could blame you? Erin was kind, and principled, and honorable. She’d bulked up since she’d gone into the army, from what you’d seen, and she wasn’t a bad-looking woman by any means. Of course, why she’d go for you when she could have any muscly military stud she wanted was beyond you. You’d heard people say you were handsome, but you weren’t sure you believed them all the time. You weren’t buff either… mostly just skinny. And who knows, maybe she was into guys with cybernetics instead. What if she was into women? Or non-binary people? Or aromantic? It wouldn’t be as if you would have a chance anyhow.

You wiped the endless stream of thoughts and worries from your brain. You were just going to go see a friend. That was it. That was all. Nothing else.

“You have arrived!” the taxi’s AI announced, repeating itself.

Right. You had to actually get out of the car to go see her. Well, this was already off to a great start.

You tapped your card on the taxi’s reader to pay the amount, straightened your T-shirt and jeans, and got out of the car.

“Thanks for choosing Checker Cab, and have a nice day!” it replied cheerily, before you shut the door and it drove away.

The Blue Pig, was, as you suspected, a bit of a dive. Not in a bad way, just not the newest and shiniest thing you’d ever seen. It was a largish, twin-story brick building with a series of wooden tables with umbrellas around the sides and on the balcony. Beneath a faded wooden sign displaying a blue pig roasting on a grill, the glass doors were open and there was country-pop-rock blaring over the speakers.

You entered cautiously, and mentioned to the hostess that you were looking a friend. Noticing that you seemed slightly uncomfortable, she took pity on you.

“What’s their name, hun?” she asked.

“Erin Baker. Her army buddies call her ‘Battery’.”

She nods. “I’ll help you find her.”

The two of you make your way through crowds eating at tables, cheering at football on TV, and playing pool, taking the stairs to the second floor until you think you see her.

The hostess gestures. “That her?”

“That’s her. Thanks so much.”

“No problem hun.” She returns to the front of the restaurant, leaving you alone. You move in a little closer to make sure.

Yep, it’s her for sure. Her short hair is teased into a fauxhawk and dyed neon pink, and she’s wearing a pair of faded jeans and a loose grey tank top that shows off her big tattooed biceps and gunmetal-silver cybernetic forearms and hands. She’s lining up a shot with a pool cue to the sound of several military-looking guys “whoa-ing” around her, all of whom are watching the table intently.

She takes the shot, gently tapping the cue ball, which rolls forward, knocking the 3 and 8 balls into the corner pocket. All of the men cheer, except one of them, who looks utterly crestfallen.

She turns to him, holds out one hand, and smiles. “Fair and square. Now cough it up.”

He sighs, and thrusts a pair of crumpled twenties into her hand. She grins, jamming them into the pocket of her jeans.

“Another round?” she calls, as he walks off, with his tail between his legs.

“No thanks.” He makes his way to the bar to drink away his sorrows.

She hands the pool cue off to one of the men and turns to see you. “Y/N. Been a while. How ya doin’?”

You shrug. “Eh. Could be worse I guess. How about you?”

She grins. “Not too bad. You hungry?”

Your stomach rumbles, entirely of its own accord, and she chuckles. “Come on, I got us a table.”

You follow her out to the balcony, where she sits down under a faded yellow and blue striped umbrella and you take the chair across from her. A waiter comes over, introducing himself, and hands you both drinks menus before leaving.

You both peruse the drinks menus before choosing and setting them down. You settle on a Mike’s Hard Lemonade for something tasty but not excessively alcoholic.

Erin leans back in her chair slightly. “So how’s life been treating you?”

“Not too bad,” you admit. “I got promoted to head programmer recently.”

“Programming, eh? Real exciting.”

You muster up a look of mock-hurt. “What? It’s a job.”

“So is accounting.”

“I have a friend who’s an accountant.”

She laughs derisively.

“So how’s the army life?” you ask, unsure as to the reaction.

The waiter comes over, and you both order. Erin gets a craft beer and you stick with your Mike’s Hard Lemonade. He gives you food menus and leaves again.

“About the army,” she says, “it’s actually going pretty well. I feel at home there. You know, in my element.”

You’re taken aback. “Not a lot of people say that about the military.”

“Well, I’m not a lot of people, I’m just one.”

You fail to stifle a snort.

She shrugs. “I mean, I’m serving my country and keeping it safe. That’s the most important thing to me. Plus, I get to see the world.” She gives a small smile. “Met some cool people, too.”

Part of you feels sadness at this, but you decide to ask anyways. “Like who?”

The waiter delivers your drinks, and you request a bit of extra time to look at the menu before he leaves.

“Well, there’s a guy named Walsh. Good dude. He’s got cybernetic arms too, so I guess we kind of bonded over that.” She takes a swig of her beer.

You nod. “Anyone else?”

“Yeah.” Erin looks off to the side and smiles. “Brazilian gal. Les Castillo. She’s cute.”

Your heart sinks. Of course. Why should you have expected any different?

Try as you might, she notices. “What is it, man?”

You shake your head. “Nothing. It’s.. nothing.”

She tilts her head. “Come on, Y/N. You know you can’t hide from me.”

You sigh. “I’ll tell you after dinner.”

You decide on a bowl of pasta and Erin goes for a cheeseburger. You mention a particularly frustrating customer at your job and she tells a few stories about life in the barracks. The food isn’t particularly ground-breaking, but it’s tasty and well-made, and you enjoy it thoroughly. When the check comes, you go for your wallet, but Erin is faster.

“Ah ah ah,” she says, handing the waiter her card. “I brought you out here. The least I can do is pay for you.”

You submit and she pays before finishing the last of her beer and taking back her card. “Come on,” she says, getting up and gesturing to you to do the same.

“Where are we going?” you ask as you follow her.

“Back to my hotel,” she says. “It’s not that far of a walk.”

Your stomach feels a little weird, but you continue with her out of the Blue Pig.

As you stroll down the street, she fumbles in her pocket, pulling out a cigar and a lighter. “You mind?” she asks.

“I thought you gave up.”

She grins. “Synthweed. Tastes better than tobacco. You know, some people say this shit is actually good for you.”

“And you believe them?”

She shrugs. “Much as they annoy me, the hippies aren’t wrong about everything.” She lights it and takes a puff. “You want one?”

You shake your head. “Alcohol is the worst I do.”

She laughs, takes another puff. You’re not much for synthweed, but she’s a friend, and it doesn’t smell that bad. More like musk than anything, actually.

“So what were you gonna tell me about earlier?” she asks.

“I had to go to the restroom.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, right. That totally wasn’t it.”

“I was thinking about my girlfriend.”

She throws her hands out. “You don’t have a girlfriend!”

“Fine. I…” -you waffle for a second- “... I was thinking about you.”

“Ohhhh.” She drags on the cigar. “In a romantic way?”

“... maybe.”

“Ha!” She blows out the smoke. “Knew it.”

“... yeah.” You stare at the ground.

She punches your shoulder. “Jeez, look alive, will ya?”

“Okay.” You straighten up somewhat.

“Chrissakes.” She grins. “I’m glad it’s not just me.”

“Wait-” -you pause- “What?”

She puffs the cigar again. “What, you think I just wanted to see an old friend?”

“Maybe.”

She mock-glares at you. “Get real! You think I remember half the people I went to school with?!”

“Yeah, but-” You stumble. “I mean, why me?”

“Puh-leaze!” She takes one last puff on the cigar, exhales, and grinds it out under her foot. “You’re nice and smart and cute and skinny. And the fact that you’re shy is totally adorable. Also-” -she grins mischievously- “I did see you naked once.”

You feel yourself turning red. “I lost my swim trunks!”

“Well, lucky me then. Come on.” She elbows you. “You were totally lusting over me in a bikini top.”

“I was not!”

“Don’t lie to me! You were a college kid!”

You reach the entrance to the hotel and stop. “Well, I guess this is where we part ways.”

“Not exactly.” She gestures forwards. “After you.”

You pause. “Are you sure?”

She frowns. “Don’t make me carry you.”

“You sure you’re not taking this a little fast?” you ask, as you enter the sliding doors.

She rolls her eyes. “Only cause you didn't have the balls to tell me to begin with.”

She checks you in as a guest at the front desk, and you head up the stairs and down the hallway to her room. Finally, she flings open the door, pushes you in, and locks it behind her.

“Now what?” you ask.

“Now we can confess our pent-up, undying love for each other.” She grins. “Or we can just skip straight to it.”

“I have a feeling you’d prefer the second one.”

“Ah, see, you do know what I’m thinking.” She shoves you up against the nearest wall and presses her lips to yours.

You gasp a little as she does. She tastes like synthweed, beer, and mouthwash, which is, oddly enough, a good combination. You close your eyes and rest your hands on her sides as she slips hers under your shirt, the cool metal calming your hot skin.

Erin draws back for a second, hearing your soft gasp. “You like that, huh?”

“... yeah,” you breathe.

“Good.” She pulls your shirt over your head, strokes your bare chest, and pushes you down onto the bed before resuming the kiss. You kiss her back, sliding your hands down to her jeans to undo her belt. She stops for a second to help you tug her jeans off to reveal a pair of tight olive-green boxers, and gently grinds against you.

You begin to feel yourself harden, and you frantically undo your own belt and jeans to expose your grey boxers.

“Oh yeah.” She grinds a little harder against you. “Damn, you’re big.”

You moan and she kisses your lips softly, and slides her tongue in between them, tangling it with yours as you run your hands up under her tank top. You can feel a six-pack, all hard muscle, and a raised line of tissue.

“You have a scar?” you ask.

“Yeah.” She grins. “You wanna see it?”

You nod, and she kisses you once more before pushing herself up, straddling you firmly, and stripping off her tank top to show you her naked midriff adorned with a jagged pink scar and her medium-sized breasts in a skimpy black bra.

“What happened?” you ask, scared to know.

She shrugs. “I’ll tell you later.”

And for once, you don’t mind.

She comes back down to kiss you, grinding hard against you, and you slip one hand down to squeeze her butt and the other to grab one of her breasts. This time she moans.

“Enough teasing,” she whispers, pushing her body to yours. “Now do me nice and hard.”

And you do.

* * * * *

You wake to the gentle heat of the sun on your face, and turn over to see Erin already up and getting dressed for the day. She’s in grey boxers and pulling on a grey T-shirt, and turns around, smirking at you, to give you a nice long look at her bare midriff and hot pink bra before pulling the T-shirt down over her torso.

“Hey babe,” she says, and grins before pulling on her jeans.

“Hey beautiful,” you reply as she fixes her buckle. You pause for a second, and she raises one eyebrow.

“Are we a thing now?” you ask, unsure.

“What do you think?”

You get out of bed and she looks you over as you dress.

“So what do you wanna do today?” you ask, pulling on your own T-shirt.

“I’m gonna take you down to the shooting range,” she replies. “And there’s a mud race in a few hours. Figured we could catch that too.”

“I’m not good at either of those,” you admit, buckling your belt.

She shrugs. “Just like everything else. Never know till ya try.”


End file.
